The Wake of War
by Pink Moogle
Summary: In an endlessly turning world, churned by the wakes of violent tides, promises falter, things grow, life fades, people change and distance becomes the moon. -I'm sorry for the lame metaphor, but at least it summarizes without giving too much away!-
1. prologue: epistle

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Final Fantasy VIII, but I don't. D: SquareEnix owns my precious.

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_The Wake of War_

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**- prologue: epistle -**

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Feebly and breathlessly, she held the yellow-tinted envelope between her trembling fingers. The thought of it; merely weeks earlier, the reigns of life were grasped in the fashion, and now, it seemed as though the letter had captured the controls. In those weeks, possibly even years, leading up to this instant, she had never conceived in the slightest that the last few events in _his_ life would now resonant endlessly, echo eternally, through hers.

'_**Why did I trust …Why did I listen?'**_

The steps of the Deling City Hospital on that frigid November evening were, to say the least, cold. To begin with Galbadia was not exactly the most tepid place this time of year. Along with the icy stare from the note, the chilling aspects of the situation, and the incessant memories of her coolness, those steps were possibly made out of frost.

Despite this, she sat unmoved for the last few hours, absently gaping at the casement of her future, pondering everything in existence and absolutely nothing all at once. She could catch her thoughts just as well as she could catch her breath—and that was not to say much. Unless that letter held an immense amount of cursing of her soul, or a spell to take her life, she did not deserve it. Yet, the epistle beckoned to be opened. The strength for this, though, was scarce.

'_**A promise is a two way street.'**_

"Rinoa."

A voice called the raven-haired women from behind. She was shocked to even think after it all, he would be in the same room with her by his own power. Inexplicably, even though he could speak to her, she was not so strong. Rinoa could not even bring herself to drawing her russet eyes to his figure. It was not his fault, surely it was hers. But she was angry with him, nonetheless.

"Are you ready to come inside?" His voice was distant; soft. The man was very aware he would not be the one to reach her. "…They're beginning to discuss funeral arrangements…" Rinoa's body noticeably shuddered with the mention of a funeral.

"…They want you there. _He'd_ want you there. Come inside, please…?" He was always so polite, that man who, regardless of everything, was being respectful.

He watched as her black tresses shook back and forth in a wordless, negative way. _At least it's some response_, he thought. The young man was content enough with the answer, and wandered back inside. _Denial is not healthy, but I have to give her time. I have no place to comfort her here. _He was being sensible, or, in the least, more sensible then Rinoa.

'_**I'm never going to learn am I! Am I?' **_

Rinoa jerked her coat tautly around shoulders, and momentarily shut her windows to all she was unworthy of around her. _He'd still be here if…_

She stomped the ground futilely, infuriated by her stupidity, her Achilles' heel. She couldn't open the letter. She couldn't talk to anyone. She couldn't complete her thoughts, or look up at the expansive night sky, or get up. She couldn't do anything but say sorry. That wasn't enough, though. He deserved far more then that.

In her pocket were memories: old papers, scrawled with utter devotion. Things she was certain that she _never_ warranted, and yet, they were there. In was unfair to him that she could not reread them

It was even more unfair that she could not shed an honest tear.

'_**I'll never learn how to stop… I'll never learn how to stop lo…- Dammit! See? …Hyne, I'm such an idiot!'**_

Rinoa slammed her head between crossed arms atop her knees. She wanted to cry, but she was aware that those would be just childish, salty crocodile tears. _Why am I so sorry for myself?_ She spat in disgust of her own feelings.

_It's your fault he's dead, you murderer! Now, make it up to him! Do something for him, damn you! _

The young women searched within her self for what she could do, and only one thing turned up after a long while: To remember; recall so many years ago, when things were full and clear, when things were loving and simple, when they together and happy, before it was all ripped to shreds in the wake of war.

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**A/N: **Well, that's the end of the prologue. I hope I didn't make it too obvious about who is who, but I've never been good with secrets. This is the first serious love story fan fiction that I'm actually getting down on paper, and I'm happy with it so far. Also, I think I could use some Beta Readers, if anyone is interested.

Read and review, please! Your input is golden. :D

_- Pink Moogle_


	2. chapter 1: empty covers and shower songs

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_The Wake of War_

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**- chapter one: empty covers and shower songs -**

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**THE EARLY **spring, late morning sun of Balamb defiantly shined its rays through the opaque curtains upon the bedside window, becoming an alarm clock for the poor soul caught in it. The Commander Suite was undoubtedly luxurious, but Hyne, was it sunny. Annoyingly sunny. Somewhat reminiscent of talking to Selphie Tilmitt at three am.

The 'poor soul' caught in those intense flex of light, was, as always, Rinoa Heartilly. Her brown orbs, once again, were unfortunately wakened to a burning of her pupils. This discomfort was subsequently met with the futile turning over of her body, and the pulling of blankets over her face, but that could not save her now. Once she was awake, _she was awake. _

After realizing the evitable, the raven-haired young lady moaned and threw the sheets off of her, which slumped onto the floor with no hands or bodies beneath it for support. Bravely, Ms. Heartilly twisted over once more to face the morning, and possibly a worse sight, the empty pillow beside her.

She quickly reached out for the white, plushy chocobo-down-filled object, and drew it into her body. Rinoa wished momentarily that the pillow was the man who owned it, but knew that that was 'impossible' for the Garden's precious Commander.

For Squall Leonhart, had_ always_ left her grasping at empty covers by six am, let alone the current time, ten, thanks to his grueling, post-Ultimecia schedule. Truthfully, Rinoa had no idea what the pre-Ultimecia one had been like, but if his twenty year old self could barely handle it, at seventeen and driven like this… Well, Rinoa really couldn't imagine.

"Your big head would block out the sunlight." She blissfully mused to the pillow.

She knew she could not sit there, holding her "Squall" for long, though. Apparently, Selphie had to talk to her about something today. _Come to think of it,_ Rinoa thought as she placed the pillow back in its original position, _Selph ha_s _been acting really weird for awhile now._

Well, on the phone she was. Selphie had gone off to Trabian Garden after a heated quarrel between her and Irvine three months ago. Selphie had told Rinoa that they had it cleared up, that they were going to get back together, and that they missed each other. Selphie had even begun to sob on the phone, to Rinoa's astonishment, as her brunette friend was never the one to wear anything but giddiness on her sleeve. Despite this, though, Selph wanted to meet Rinoa in the_ library_. _If Selph really misses Irvine that much, why would she want to meet at the last place he would ever be?_

She shrugged it off as part of her morning stretches when she finally awkwardly half-rolled-half-walked off of the king-sized (she liked to think of it as "knight-sized") mattress_. I guess I'll find out soon enough. _

The Garden's event calendar hung across from the bed, between the door and the far-too small closet that the residents of the quarters often found themselves bickering about. Rinoa approached the guardian-force donning chart after completing what she considered "sunrise yoga" (A series of toe-touches and rolls of various body parts preformed at any near-afternoon hour when she awoke). She was certain there was something of importance happening today, but what she couldn't remember. Though, that was characteristic of her Sundays off. During the week, when she taught night classes on magic, she always knew the day.

This month's guardian force picture was Tonberry, giving the finishing blow to a fierce looking T-rexaur within the Garden's training center. Rinoa had loved that one. She always had to laugh. Tonberries were so cute and innocent looking! Yet, they had so much power.

A moment of scrutiny of the dates revealed that she was indeed correct; today was the day: Three years ago today, the battle was over. Three years ago today, there was fear followed by jubilation. Three years ago today, they ended one journey and began a new one with one single, passionate star-lit kiss.

Three years ago today, they had defeated Ultimecia.

Of course, Rinoa knew what that meant; the annual Balamb Sorceress Ball! Which, although it was a wonderful opportunity to see Squall all "spiffy", and to have the chance to actually have a date with him (something that seemed to occur less then the Lunar Cry anymore), was somewhat of a bittersweet occasion. _Everyone_ who took part in defeating Ultimecia would be there. That was including her father.

A quick turn back revealed that Rinoa was wasting time. Selphie was planning on meeting her within the hour, and she was in dire need of a shower. Without a mirror, she was well aware that her locks were disheveled and oily, and her skin, she presumed, was not far from that either. Now rushing her self, she trotted into the bathroom.

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It wasn't long after that hot water began to pellet against her skin, that that daily, unavoidable musical spell once again took hold of her usual embarrassment regarding her voice, and had her humming the first few lines of one of her mother's songs.

And after that, the humming always led to the same thing: singing, and although she never realized it, the daughter of Julia Heartilly could carry a tune.

The only one who knew this was the man who sacrificed so many of his lunch breaks to sit beside the room's door. This man, although he owned this room, was quite content looking like a stalker, with his back on his entrance and ear to the wall, listening for the angelic melodious warbles of his girlfriend. Squall never made her aware of this, and was thankful within the year he'd been doing it; she had not caught him there.

Today's song was a familiar one: "Eyes on Me". Squall noticed that Rinoa would sing it at least once a week. This morning –Squall considered it afternoon, though- he could not just stay there listening; he had a more important mission.

He reached into the inner hidden pocket of his favorite, and characteristically leather, jacket to obtain a fresh white envelope. The front of it had 'Rinoa' written on it in his handwriting. For moment, the scarred man debated whether he should really deliver this parcel or not, after all, he was not one to let himself seem vulnerable to anyone, _especially_ Rinoa.

This letter, though, divulged ever single feeling her had for her, and asked her a question that he could not bring across his own lips. This three-word question caused his usual nonchalant nature and lion-like courageousness to escape him, and like a coward, he could only put it on paper.

_No, no. I have to say it. It won't mean as much otherwise. But what if she says no? Wait, what am I thinking? She's not going to say no, why would she do that? …But she might. And what if she does? Big deal. I'll get over it, right? …No, I won't. What am I scared of anyway? I jumped out into space without second thought but I'm afraid of just saying this? What a Commander I am. I'll just ask her tonight…But what if- Hyne, just stop thinking. _

Squall finally took out the paper he had written and scribbled out the final line. He'd still give her the letter, and possibly after reading it, she'd get the gist of it and he wouldn't have to ask at all.

Either way, the question was coming out tonight.

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**A/N: **That was an awfully quick update, wasn't it? Just don't get used to it. I was bored and spent my entire day writing is all. Anyway, if it's not obvious, this is happening _before_ (years before) the prologue. This one, and the next couple of chapters are a little cutesy, but keep in mind, this is still a tragedy. Also, please info me if the chapters are too short or whatever.

Thank you, BestInInfluence, for giving me my first review, and becoming my first fan of this story! I have to tell you, I was reloading my hotmail account every five seconds (no exaggeration) to see if I had a review, and I can't even explain how elated I was to see someone did. Within an hour after I submitted the story, nonetheless!

That's all, folks.

- Pink Moogle


	3. chapter 2: nervous laughter

**A/N: **Haha, I'm better at updating then I thought! I just wish I had more readers to appreciate this fact. I noticed that I had quite a few hits (120, last time I checked) but only two reviews! Please, I could really use more input—I'm still quite new to this whole fan fiction writing practice. Also, the entire first part of this chapter is _supposed _to be a funny, slightly sarcastic over-exaggeration. Just keep that in mind. Most of you will probably figure that out, but some people just do not get sarcasm, so…This is for them.

**Extra Disclaimer:** Some of the lyrics to "Eyes on Me" are featured in this chapter. I do not own that song; hell, it's too high of an octave for me to even sing. This song is property of Faye Wong, and Nobuo Uematsu.

Enjoy!

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_The Wake of War_

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**- chapter two: nervous laughter -**

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"…**SO LET **me come to you…Close as I want to be…Close enough for me…"

The shower songstress was already warbling into the second verse when Squall finally decided to sneak into his own room with the parcel clutched within his sweating fist. He had never wavered when he had battled Diablo, never flinched at the sight of a Ruby Dragon or even a Jumbo Cactuar, but right now, being a mail-man was certainly more frightening. Slowly and softly, he closed the door to the point that it was only slightly ajar for easy exit. Across the room lay the disheveled bed, and beside it, an absurdly blowzy night stand, with just space between the alarm clock and lamp to secure the letter, but, to do so, he had to cross his quarters with supreme stealth and agility, as to not be caught.

By far, his most dangerous mission yet.

"…Share with me! Your love if you have enough…Your tears…" There was no time to dilly-dally, the end of the ballad was nigh!

Squall's sock sheathed feet tip-toed with extreme caution on the plushy carpet, drawing him nearer and nearer to the note's location with each careful step. SeeD training, by now, had activated. Under this pressure, he saw nothing but his goal, heard nothing but his goal, nothing else mattered. It felt like he was diffusing a bomb.

_Maybe this is how Irvine felt when he was assigned to shoot Matron…I see why he chickened out._

The tiny table seemed miles away, but eventually, the brave Commander had reached it, set message were it belonged, sighed in relief, and wiped a single bead of sweat from his brow. He turned around, and now, with the rush off his shoulders, his wary walk had become a careless stride. He was confident that he'd now escape completely unnoticed.

Confidence was a near fatal mistake.

For his gait, and his now non-existent vigilance of the ground below him, had his left foot not stepping on the floor at all at one point, and instead had inside the velvet lining of his own gun blade's open floor-bound case.

The heavy metal case recoiled to this gesture as a scale would, and subsequently, the unoccupied end of the container flew up a few inches before the Commander finally stumbled out of his own little piece of irony. Unfortunately, gravity exists, and what comes up must come down; which it did: With a loud, thunderous, weighty _**thwump**_, that was not drowned out by the sound of water, thanks to the now off shower. Squall twitched. His first failed mission.

A curious voice could be heard outside the walls of the bathroom, "What was that? Squall, is that you…?"

Rinoa quickly exited her "recording studio" wrapped in a towel, expecting to possibly greet her Squally, but was disappointed to only discover the moved box and the door wide open, to her embarrassment. Squall had disappeared. She giggled as she shut it, certain for no particular reason that it was indeed her boyfriend.

_Boyfriend is such a stupid term._ She couldn't help but ponder as she began to rummage through her dresser. _So is "going out". It's…So much more then that. I mean, girlfriend and boyfriend and all that are cutesy phrases but…_Re-entering the bathroom and activating her precious blow drier, her thoughts paused momentarily.

…_But…We already said "I love you", so I think we're pretty much past the cutesy, fluffy phase. But what is more then "going out" but less than …? Come to think of it…_Somehow, the melodious hum of the air-blowing hair-aiding machine always provoked insightful, utterly pensive thought in the pale young women. _Less than what? We already live together. We've been through more in three years then most couples in a lifetime. We've fought. A lot. What else could we be? Well, I guess we could be… _

She let out an uncharacteristic sigh as she attacked her now dry head of hair with a brush. _Nah, I don't think Squall is much for commitment. I might have to wait awhile on that, but…I really can't picture myself with anyone else. Ever. _This thought made her smile. _Well, whatever we are, I'm happy. And I think he is too. Don't fix it if it's not broken, right? _

Cheerfully, Rinoa dressed herself causal weekend garb, saving the fancy clothing for tonight: A light blue graphic tee-shirt with a vintage gray washed-out looking print of angel wings, with a pair of gray stone-washed skinny jeans, a navy three-quarter sleeved cardigan, and adorable pair of blue denim-looking flats with a tiny navy-dyed raw-hide bow on each. She applied a bit of makeup, and beamed once more to the mirror.

…_But we _could_ be happier._

Now finished with her morning routine, she was truly prepared to greet the impending day, and, before leaving, she approached the loathed window and drew back the curtains. A lovely day for a ball indeed: so fresh, so bright, and -- as she found while pushing the light's entrance open—so windy. A breath of fresh air sent her on her way, spiriting out the door with her light-blue purse in hand.

It was not extremely breezy out, but it was blustery enough; that is, just blustery enough to send Squall's efforts, unbeknownst to either the deliverer or the recipient, in between the black hole that was the tiny space between their bed, and the note's former location.

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Flats, Rinoa soon unraveled, were certainly a good choice for today. No matter what, she was going to be late for her meeting with Selph by now, but these shoes at least carried her quick enough to ensure she caught her friend.

It baffled her though. What was with the secrecy of the situation? Why'd she stay in Trabia so long over a tiny scuffle? …In fact, Selphie had never informed Rinoa of what the fight was in the first place. But judging by Irvine's chorus of "I don't get it"s, it couldn't have been anything _huge._

As she entered the near-empty library, panting, though, she uncovered it was something _huge _as soon as she spotted Selphie. _Selphie was huge_. Or, at the very least, a lot bigger then when she left. Before they even spoke, the answers filed into Rinoa's mind when obviously heavily_ pregnant_ Selphie waddled in her direction.

"Hey, Rin…" Selphie said with a nervous laugh, most likely recognizing the surprised look on her friend's face. "…So… Anything new?"

She attempted to cease her gaping, but she was definitely not expecting _this _when she woke up this morning. Although, she had a feeling Selphie might have had felt that with a smidgen more gravity to it. "Don't you think you should be answering that first?"

Another nervous cackled. That was so unlike Selphie; genuine happiness usually came so naturally to the burette. Albeit her voice was the same, this seemed like a completely alien version of Ms. Tilmitt. Her usually flipped up brown hair was longer and obviously untouched by hairspray. Her usually bright yellow wardrobe was now an over-sized dingy-colored sweatshirt, and a pair worn out blue-jeans. Her eyes were even lacking that bright emerald shine. Selph looked tired, worried, and, most of all, bereft.

"Well…" She started and then paused. "Can we sit down first?"

Rinoa led her mother-bound companion to one of the many library stools, and sat down beside her. Rin's eyes were imploring Selphie for a response.

"Well… Let's see… I'm pregnant, I'm stupid, and I'm completely doomed. That's all." Selphie chortled, but there was an evident amount of fret in her words. Rinoa gave her a serious glare. "What, you think I'm lying? Heheh…"

So many dumbfounded, flabbergasted inquires flew through Rinoa's brain, but only one popped out: "Is it…Irvine's?"

Selphie did not react at first, but rather turned away to give the floor a grave look. She sighed, and finally spilled. "Yeah…But I almost wish it wasn't…I mean, Irvine...? He's barely capable of being a boyfriend, nonetheless a father." Selphie grinned a bit and starred up at the ceiling near giggling at the thought of it. "We're both so young…" She admitted, returning to her previous Un-Selphie-like state, "I would hate to put this kind of responsibility on him..."

It was true. Irvine was _still_ immature at age twenty. The "cowboy" continued to strike people as, although caring and occasionally poetic, an irresponsible and a –for lack of a better term- jackass. Thankfully for Selphie, he had, at any rate, grown out of being a womanizer. That did not change the situation at hand, though.

"Ugh!" Selphie suddenly exclaimed. As she blinked, a few renegade tears escaped their ducts and appeared on her cheeks. Rinoa inched her chair nearer to Selphie's and rubbed her back in comfort. "I'm so stupid! Why did I even bother coming back here? He's going to hate me!"

"Selph, no! I'm glad you came back!" Selphie turned to look at Rinoa. "Look, he loves you—He always will love you—He'll love the kid, too! —He can be a father, I'm sure of it!" Truthfully, she wasn't, but she had to tell Selphie what she needed to hear. "Besides, it's not like you could go on not telling him anyway."

"Oh, what do you know!" The green-eyed girl broke out into sobs and returned herself to looking at the ground. "You have Squall—You guys are like completely perfect together. If you were in my place, you'd be fine, but I don't have a perfect relationship like you guys—It has always been an up-hill battle with Irvy and I…What makes you think now will be any different?"

Rinoa was unsure of whether to take Selphie's tirade as a complement or not, but was patient as quiet between them resumed. Her best friend in the Garden took a moment, and then sobered up from her mood-swing. She spoke once more. "…I'm sorry, Rinny, I didn't mean it… I'm just all hormonal." She nodded and gave Selphie a reassuring embrace of forgiveness.

"That's why I ended up leaving in the first place: Hormones. We had a fight about something petty, like… Oh Hyne, I don't even remember what it was it was so stupid. I think he asked me something like, if I was sick or something, and I was offended, even though he was truly concerned. But after the first few weeks in Trabia, I started to grow, and I connected all the dots: The sickness, the mood swings, the lack of well my…You know."

"…And I just couldn't come back, knowing I had to tell him, but… Then he started begging me on the phone and well… Here I am." Selphie tried to smile, but it was a melancholy, hopeless one.

Unsure of what to say, Rinoa asked the only other question that came to mind. "How many months in are you?"

She sniffed slightly then answered. "Umm… I think about five, at the most, but I'm going to find out for sure today. I have an appointment with Kadowaki in…" She pulled out her cell phone and looked at the time "…About ten minutes, and then I'll know for sure. I don't really believe what the doctors in Trabia told me anyway, they're all hacks, if you ask me." She once more chuckled, but this time, it wasn't so edgy; more warming and Selphie-ish.

As Selphie shifted her extra weight to lift herself, Rinoa also rose, and hugged her friend with the best of her ability. As she put her arms around the once paper-thin Selphie, the extreme incredibility of it all actually hit her. It was a horrid thought, but no one could possibly imagine Irvine as a father; Selphie's presumptions were almost undoubtedly correct.

"…I'm just so scared. This is going to change _everything_. I know it." Always happy-go-lucky Selph now seemed like merely a terrified shell of what was. It hurt the brown eyed girl to see her like that; over these past few years at the Garden, when Squall had shut the mental door on Rinoa, when Rinoa had the notion of leaving this place, when ever Squall went off on mission, when ever anything went wrong, Selphie was always there with the positive, a pillar of jubilant shining strength. She admired Selphie for that. It was why they had become friends. She had to return the favor.

"Change isn't always bad though… Look, Selph, I can't say I have been in your shoes, since well… I haven't but…" Words came slowly and carefully, but most of all, earnestly. " I think you and Irvine are closer then you realize. I doubt _one_ baby is going to come between you two, even if he may be a bit afraid at first. I've seen you two—you complete each other. And Squall and I? We're not perfect either. No matter what, things will turn out alright."

"Four." Selphie mumbled in a barely audible, low, low voice. "Not one, Four."

"_Excuse me?"_ Was she saying…?

"Four babies. We're having quadruplets." Yes. Yes she was.

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**A/N: **I tried to make this chapter longer…I think it's a decent size. I hope you guys enjoyed the ending… The whole Selphie/Irvine thing is sort-of-kind-of-ok-maybe-not-I-just-like-the-couple-but-still-could-be important to the plot. I just always thought that they'd be…I don't know… Fertile? xD Please read and review!

_- Pink Moogle_


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